


No Big Thing

by zooeyscigar



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fade to Black, Implied Sexual Content, Lots of Cuddling, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Pre-Poly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2019-01-09 03:49:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12268269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zooeyscigar/pseuds/zooeyscigar
Summary: It wasn’t that big of a thing.Harry had no idea why the band’s handlers were getting so up in arms about it.It wasn’t like they were fucking.Though... supposedly no one could tell that they weren’t?Wherein Harry can't keep his hands off his bandmates and it gets him into trouble.





	No Big Thing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Faerieoftara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faerieoftara/gifts).



> Thanks to Faerieoftara for being my 1D buddy/cheerleader/beta.
> 
> This story is set in a nebulous time between their second and third albums. Mid 2013?

It wasn’t that big of a thing. 

Harry had no idea why the band’s handlers were getting so up in arms about it. 

It’s not like the boys were being mean or rude or anything. They all really liked each other and felt comfortable together. Why was that so wrong?

He shook his head. Wankers, all of them. Hadn’t the label ever done this before? One Direction was a boy band. Which meant five healthy — dare he say lusty — young men were by necessity in close quarters 24/7 for weeks on end. And folks expected them to be respectful, proper, and chaste with each other?

Boys were disgusting. Not in and of themselves, boys were lovely and beautiful and smelled good and loved hard and were as attractive as girls sometimes, but that was beside the point. Boys, when they were only around other boys they felt comfortable with for long periods of time, became filthy, disgusting, hilarious, raucous, naughty arseholes and they came up with games that were inappropriate for prime-time viewing. 

What the lads and he tended to forget was that the way they were together when alone was also not appropriate stage interaction. 

Which was what Marnie was having a fit about at the moment. 

“I don’t care about the intricacies of the nipple tweaking game. I care that you’re playing it in the middle of ‘They Don’t Know About Us’."

“At least it’s not the bollocks tapping game,” Louis muttered. Harry sighed in exasperation that he’d ever thought Lou of all people would be a help in situations like this.

Marnie’s eyes got bigger and her frown more sharp, if that were possible. “If I  _ ever _ see that game anywhere, you’re all in deep shite. Understood?”

“Yes, Marnie,” they chorused. They could do it in five part harmony if they wanted — they’d practised — but this was not the moment to bring out that little gem. 

“Now please. Act like the adults you supposedly are, and  _ stop groping each other in public. _ ”

Harry’s mouth flew open in shock and outrage. Marnie just gave him a look. The one that said, ‘your histrionics are lost on me’, which she gave him with increasing regularity these days. Maybe he was becoming a bit of a drama queen. Maybe she didn’t have any fucks left to give. Either way, he knew he was toeing a line and needed to be more respectful, at least to her face. 

Except of course at that moment he felt one hand on his upper left nipple and one edging along his thigh towards his bits and bobs, and he couldn’t help but grin at her like the Cheshire Cat, or possibly the Mad Hatter, honestly.

Marnie stared at all five of them piled on the couch, with Harry draped across the other boys’ laps like a blanket, as a third hand played with his hair and the fourth wrapped an arm around his waist, and well... she gave up. Threw her hands up in the air and stormed out of the trailer they used as their practice space while on the road. 

Lou tweaked Harry’s nipple and giggled like a fiend, but Niall frowned as his hand moved down Harry’s thigh to his knee. “Was that too far? Did we push her over the edge?”

“Possibly, but I don’t give two shites,” Liam said with a shrug. His strong arm around Harry’s middle gave a quick squeeze, then pulled away. 

“Yes you do. And yes we’ve gone too far.” When Zayn bothered to speak up, everyone listened. “At least for our fan demographic. Not that I care. I’m paid not to care about the rules. But some of your images will suffer if we don’t tone it down. Harry’s for instance...”

Harry squirmed on their laps but Zayn’s fingers continued combing through his hair, which helped. “Just because I’m the youngest, they think they can bill me as the boy next door. I’m not interested. Besides I thought being wholesome was Niall’s job.”

“Stuff that nonsense. I’m not a bloody child.” 

“True. We’ve all seen the hair on your arse, after all.” Lou said with mock seriousness.

“Smack his head for me, will you, Li?” Niall said from the end of the couch. Lou grinned at him around Liam. 

Liam obliged because that’s what mates do, but with less emphasis than Niall might have liked. Lou’s hand shot from Harry’s chest to Liam’s, making him yelp at what looked like a quite painful titty-twister. 

“Oi! not so rough or I’m gonna fall off,” Harry cautioned, though it seemed all of the lads were too restless to sit still after their telling off. 

He rolled off them onto the floor and lay there face-up as one by one the rest of them extricated themselves from the tight fit on the couch and stepped over him. 

God, what a load of arseholes. He loved them all so much. He was the luckiest guy in existence, that he had this group of top lads to spend his roller-coaster life with. The past three-ish years had truly been a whirlwind, but also an utterly amazing journey with four of the best people he was ever likely to know, and he was just so  _ grateful. _ Which meant he had to figure out how to keep each of these boys always, and never do anything to jeopardise the integrity of the squad as it was. Because sure they were arseholes, but he wanted them to be  _ his _ arseholes forever.

Which meant he really needed to keep a tight rein on his feelings and not touch all of them so much that it made folks notice, for fuck’s sake. Hardest thing he’d ever have to do in this band, surely. 

Niall was last to get up from the couch, and he stood at Harry’s feet with a hand out to help him up, the smile on his boyish face sweet and crinkle-eyed. Harry took a deep breath before reaching out and being hauled to his feet... and nearly into Niall’s arms. Harry backed off immediately, apologising, and inwardly cursing himself for wanting a hug so badly it hurt.

Enough mooning over bandmates. Back to rehearsing. 

  
  


~~

 

Life returned to normal for a bit. Well, ‘normal’ was relative. Harry’s normal was a lot different than most blokes his age, and the only reason he could deal with it was his squad were all going through the madness with him. And they were all doing what they really loved with people they cared about. A lot. At least that’s how it worked for him. 

And thankfully touring was over for now, though filming music videos was on the docket for the next fortnight. The days were sort of grueling, but at least they stayed in the same place for the duration of each shoot. 

Of course the schedule was divided sharply between shots with just the five of them arsing around together, and shots with a bevy of girls watching them perform, so that was... challenging.

It meant Marnie was alternately shouting at them to stop hanging all over each other, and to stop ogling the young women that had been bussed in to stand around and stare at them. 

_ Like, take your pick, Marn, but you can’t have both. _

Harry wasn’t the sort of person who could exist in isolation. He’d never been able to grasp the standoffishness that many young men cultivated, as if touching or being touched by anyone they weren’t dating was a crime. For Harry, physical affection from his family and friends was necessary as breathing. His mother and sister were both affectionate people, and hugs and cuddling had always been a part of how they showed their care for each other. And because he was only seven when his dad left, and the three of them gravitated even closer together during the aftermath, he simply missed the stage when boys learn to push people away. Thank Christ.

And when Harry met Louis, who was as touchy-feely if not more than he was, they just sort of glommed onto each other’s habits, and the other lads adjusted as they could. It wasn’t really clear to Harry when they’d all gotten so physically close with each other, but he was deeply grateful for every bit of contact that was initiated by one of the others, since he was forever in need of it (and increasingly wanting it for reasons he couldn’t justify, but that was a whole other thing).

Perhaps it was just that the lads could tell Harry needed touch to thrive, and so they provided it, seeing as how there wasn’t anyone else to do it. 

Or perhaps this was just what a close squad of top lads looked like in a vacuum, which is what they always were in. Well, a fishbowl, really, but one that was definitely vacuum-sealed from the outside world as well. 

And besides, it wasn’t like they were fucking. 

Though... supposedly no one could tell that they weren’t?

“Does it really look that bad? How could it?” Harry ran a hand through his ever-lengthening mop of hair as they all crowded around the video playback screen to see why they’d gotten yelled at this time. The director gave them all a very pointed eye-roll as he showed them their most recent take.

_ Oh. _

There really wasn’t a second of the whole song where at least one of them wasn’t touching another. And not just quick touches, but ones that lingered — hanging on each other and touching waists and chest, not just arms and shoulders. It wasn’t sexual, necessarily, but very... sensual.  When the cameras had been rolling, it had felt really good, like they were all connecting well and looking like they were having fun. But from the outside it looked like they were...  _ very _ close.

Harry tried to imaging what Marnie saw when she watched this, why she was so outraged by their behaviour, and he was met with the uncomfortable realisation that it very much looked like he could easily be dating any one of the other boys — or possibly all of them at once. 

_ Christ. What a thought.  _

He glanced over at Louis, whose smug smile had wilted, then raised his eyebrows at Niall, who made a non-committal noise that sounded slightly strangled. 

Zayn had actually turned away from the screen, the pink on his cheeks apparent. Harry wanted to comfort him but didn’t know how without resorting to touch. Liam nudged Zayn’s shoulder with his own, a little bit of comfort and possibly apology, but a touch nonetheless. And Zayn didn’t pull away, but he sort of flinched, as if feeling guilty.

_ Bugger. _

 

~~

 

“It’s my fault,” Harry said as they all piled into the dressing room for a badly needed fifteen minute break. 

Niall and Liam both looked at him like he was mental as Zayn and Louis shook their heads in protest. 

“Not half!” Louis insisted. “I was the biggest culprit. And have been from the start, really.”

“We’re all like this now, doesn't matter who started it.” Zayn was now facing away from them, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“I'm sorry, Z. I didn't mean to rub off on you.” The moment Harry said it, he heard how suggestive it sounded. 

Zayn pinched the bridge of his nose as Louis snorted. 

Liam shot him a death glare. “Look. It doesn't matter. Only that we can fix it. Or at least tone it down a notch.”

“Babe, we're dialed up to eleven right now. And even an eight is too high for a music video.” Niall’s arm snaked around Liam’s neck as he spoke, then quickly retreated when he caught himself inches away from Liam’s face. 

“All right. All right,” Harry said, moving to the centre of the floor. “What if we just piled on right here for the next ten minutes, and then didn't touch again until dinner time?”

“You mean, getting our fill, like?” Louis’ eyebrows had a hopeful curve to them. 

“Could work.” Liam nodded as he stepped up to Harry. The two of them sat down on the rug as the others joined. 

“Worth a try,” Zayn mumbled as he curled himself around Harry, the both of them tipping over to lean on Liam’s chest. Niall tucked himself in close on the other side and Louis, the knob, sprawled across the lot of them until they protested loud enough and jabbed hard enough to get him settled where he wasn't suffocating anyone but was touching everyone. 

Laying right in the middle of everything, Harry felt massively cared for, and utterly content. Calm. Grounded. As if he could fall asleep right there, but he was too delighted to miss a moment of this. It was the perfect cure for his incessant need for them, and he was so relieved everyone had been willing to go for it. 

When they all stepped back onto the soundstage, Harry felt like he'd taken the best power nap he'd ever had. He also felt a bit wired from all the physical contact, as if a low-level current had been running through all of them the whole time and his battery was now supercharged. It was amazing.

The other lads looked similarly awake and ready to go. Zayn’s cheeks were still dusted with a rosy tint, though, and Liam was moving stiffly. Louis was puppy-like in his excitement to try another take, but he seemed to be overcompensating for something. Niall just looked massively sheepish for no reason. Had Harry missed something during the cuddle sesh? Or had he read the room wrong and no one but him had needed that closeness? 

_ Shit.  _

No time to interrogate the matter at the moment, it was showtime. 

 

~~

 

After nailing a ladrific take of the five of them, the rest of the afternoon and into the evening had been performing for a gaggle of young women over and over. It was awkward and amusing in turn, and luckily most of the girls were damned good sports, so at least it wasn't torture. 

Marnie was so glad none of the boys were inappropriate with any of the young women that she didn't seem to care how often they circled up into a tight scrum to satisfy any residual physical cravings. Liam and Louis had each noticed a girl or two that they thought were fit and they needed an escape valve to keep from doing something stupid. Harry was always happy to be on the receiving end of these attentions — rough neck rubs or gentle hair pulling, etc — but what he didn't expect was that at the same time Niall was sort of pulling away from all of them, just as Zayn seemed to almost attach himself to Harry's hip. 

Everything was a little bit sideways and Harry had no fucking idea why. Maybe everyone was tired, or still a bit embarrassed by getting called out for how touchy-feely they were, or maybe the myriad tensions around being forced to socialise with a bunch of female fans, all of whom were young and beautiful, was getting to them. Harry knew his charm was starting to wear thin, which was saying something, though possibly that was to do with the way the lads had gone a bit wolfish around the ladies. It wasn’t their most flattering mode of being.

“Think I could get off with that one later?” Louis said with a nod towards a lovely brunette in a short, summery dress. “Get her to wait out the back of the lot after...” 

Harry shook his head. “You know it doesn’t work that way. Not at home.”

Niall chimed in with, “Yeah. What happens on tour stays on tour, but also  _ how _ it happens. The rules are different here. And Marnie’s hawk-eyed today; you’d never get away with it.” He glanced over at the girl in question and added, “Besides, she deserves dinner and a movie before you snog her face off.”

“Not to mention she barely looks sixteen, mate,” Zayn said with an arched eyebrow.

“Sod off, she’s older than that.” Lou looked at her again, frowning. “I think.”

Liam snorted, his face unamused. “Safer to watch night-time telly while playing with Harry’s hair.” 

“Is that all I am to you? A substitute for the ‘real thing’?” Harry meant his question to sound more amused and teasing than it came out. He loved any of them playing with his hair, and he really needed to stop wanting more than he got — more than was possible to get.

“N — no? I didn’t mean that, Haz. I’m...” Liam’s confused frown tore at Harry’s heart.

“Only joking, mate. Seriously. I don’t take offence. We all get our needs met how we can in this fucking fishbowl.” He put a hand on Liam’s shoulder and managed to smirk as he added, “If I were going to call you out, I’d have to mention Zayn’s compulsive unconscious cuddling, Louis’ ever-present hands, and my own penchant for using Niall’s shoulder as my personal grounding rod.”

Everyone in the circle shifted their feet at the truth of his statement, but at least they could all look each other in the eyes. 

“We’re only allowed so many outlets, and then they get mad at us for over-using them. It’s a rigged game, mates,” Zayn said softly and with less bitterness than he could have. “Bugger the lot of them. We’re doing grand.”

Zayn smiled at each of them in turn, and when he got to Harry — whose own smile was huge and very grateful — their eye contact warmed him to his core, and gave him the energy to get back to work. 

“All right, lads. We’ve got this. A couple more hours and we can go watch a movie at mine, complete with popcorn and a pillow fort.”

“And they accuse us of not being wholesome,” Niall said with a smirk.

“That’s because they know Harry never wears clothes in his own house.” Liam said with a wink.

Harry’s shocked and outraged face was back, but with good reason. “Oi, I wear clothes! Shorts, usually.”

“Boxers at most, mate,” Zayn said, with a pat on Harry’s shoulder. 

“I... Maybe. Fine. You’re all welcome to do the same, though.” He shrugged and headed back to where the director was impatiently waiting. 

He couldn’t understand why it took the rest of them so long to join him. 

 

~~

 

When filming was finally done for the day, they all piled into a hired car and headed to Harry’s house. It took approximately forty-seven seconds after they’d swarmed into the lounge for it to be turned topsy-turvy — sofa cushions and throw pillows piled on the floor, multiple bodies in the wing-backed chairs, limbs draped across whatever furniture was about, but mostly each other. 

Liam immediately got out his mobile and started ordering takeaway for all of them from the chinese around the corner. Meanwhile, Lou, who was sat on Niall’s lap — not for want of other seating options, mind — was telling an obviously self-aggrandising story about chatting up the blonde who seemed to be a friend of the brunette from earlier, with Niall calling him on his shit at every turn. Zayn was resting his head on Harry’s shoulder and being very quiet, as per usual after performing so much, and Harry was simply soaking in the feeling of the squad being themselves again after being on good behaviour all day.

Or at least somewhat respectable behaviour. Not downright embarrassing behaviour. 

_ What did they expect, after all? _

This was how the band were by default now, comfortable with each other and casually affectionate, and Harry wouldn’t have them any other way. It was home, to be with them like this, relaxed and happy to be together, no thought to tomorrow and the rest of filming. Their little family was replete in itself. 

At least Harry hoped that was how the rest of them felt.

It’s possible that Lou really wished that right now he was dogging one of the girls who’d turned his head. Perhaps Liam felt the same way about the girl he hadn’t stopped smiling at for the last hour of filming. Zayn would probably have been just as happy to be in his own bed, settled in for the night and texting Perrie, asleep within the hour, and Niall... who knew about Niall. He was too easy-going for his own good, easily led but seemingly always happy to be along for the ride. Harry probably unwittingly strong-armed him into more things than necessary. 

The thing was, none of them ever said no to this sort of hang out time. It was possible Harry was just too convincing, or possibly too pathetic, for any of them to feel like they could decline. Except that they all seemed to really and truly enjoy themselves, so Harry couldn’t feel sorry about making them, if that’s what was indeed happening. 

He really needed to stop overthinking this, clearly, and just enjoy the evening. 

When Liam finished on his mobile Harry handed him the remotes for the telly, etc. He started scrolling through film offerings while Harry pulled Zayn down onto the mass of cushions to cuddle, and Niall nudged Louis off the chair to join them in a puppy pile in front of the sofa. 

And just like that, Harry was sure that they all felt as warm and content as he did, and he let his doubts float away as he was engulfed by a sea of good feelings. 

 

~~

 

Of course the waters got darker and started to churn a bit after they got chow mein and a few cans in them, and for once everyone followed Harry’s lead in stripping down to boxers — and vests, if they wore them. In this relaxed atmosphere, the conversation turned to the regimented nature of their lives and how much they all chafed at the strict rules. 

“At least the tour van is our domain. They can’t keep us from being  _ us _ on the road when no one can see.” Liam sighed as he finished off his lager.

Louis handed Liam a new can and grabbed one for himself as he added, “If only they’d allow us to bring folks with us to relieve the boredom. Not that I don’t love being with you lot, only...” 

Niall’s face was impish as he cut in. “What Lou means is he wants to steal away a bit of crumpet and have them ready and waiting when he gets off stage each night.” 

“And?? Isn’t that the dream, like? Sex, drugs, and rock n’ roll? What are we doing with our time if it’s not that? We’re all sitting around twiddling our thumbs, wanting to get off with someone, but the bloody rules say we can’t.”

“We’re a  _ boy band, _ emphasis on ‘boy’,” Zayn said. “Sort of ruins the illusion if we show our fans what sort of horny wankers we really are.” 

“Says the bloke with a steady girlfriend.” Liam lobbed the comment into the conversation and it sort of sat in the middle of them, no one wanting to touch it for a moment.

“Coupledom is a much safer narrative than the predatory rockstar,” Harry proffered. 

Zayn nodded immediately, shifting so his face was more fully in Harry’s line of sight. “Exactly. Marnie allows my relationship with Perrie because it looks relatively wholesome, and in reality we’re almost never in the same place.”

Harry rested a comforting hand on Zayn’s knee, saying, “Sorry, mate. Long distance is hard, I know.”

“It’s fine. I basically shut everything off when one of us is on the road. When we are together it’s brilliant, and everything’s grand and we do really well, but otherwise, we just go about our business. Because that’s what it is — business.” The shrug he gave didn’t fool any of them that the fucked up nature of the situation — every situation they encountered, really — was actually okay. Because odds were good that it wasn’t sustainable. Harry hadn’t ever managed to make it more than a few months that way, after all. 

Each of the other lads stretched out their hands to touch Zayn wherever they could reach. He nodded in acknowledgement of their efforts to comfort him.

Niall of all people broke the silence with, “Marnie needs to fuck right off with her shite about not wanting us to touch when it’s obvious how much we need it.”

“Not just need, mate. Want.” Everyone nodded at Louis’ statement, which did Harry’s head in.

“Wait. Want how exactly?” Everyone looked warily at him except Lou, whose eyes flashed challengingly. “I mean, we all know how  _ you _ do, Lou. And me, too — I know, believe me. I'm a pain. But, like... you’re not just humouring us, you lot?” 

His question was met with noises of outrage and an upheaval of limbs within the pile, everyone trying to touch Harry, in proof, most likely. 

“You must be fucking joking, mate. We’re all so far in this it’s mental.” Liam caught himself and amended slightly. “Not mental. Totally normal, given how much we... how close we are.”

“Right. I might have started out feeling differently about it, but not anymore.” Niall’s hand was on Harry’s upper arm as he spoke, his thumb rubbing gently against the inked skin. 

“All right... But what changed?” Harry steeled himself to hear how much he'd bowled Niall over with his incessant need for affection. 

Instead he got a soft smile and a shrug. “My feelings for you, I guess. For all of you, really.”

Liam exhaled as if he'd been punched in the gut, Zayn sat up as if stung, Louis made a strangled noise and muttered, “Are we really doing this right now?”

“He fucking asked, mate.” Niall was half defiant, half apologetic. 

Harry was all confusion. 

“Yeah, but is it right? We’d agreed to let it lie until...” Liam’s eyebrows were moving in some complicated semaphore that pulled Harry from confusion to anger at being left out.

“You lot  _ ‘agreed’  _ on something? Where was I for all of this? What the fuck, guys?” 

Zayn ignored Harry’s outburst and looked sharply at Liam, then the other two. “Until he was ready to consider things. We’re getting yelled at my Marnie daily, Lou’s about to explode, and we're sat here, all of us in our skivvies on the floor, half-cocked and cuddling. Is this not the time?”

“The time for  _ what? _ ” Harry’s anger was suddenly co-opted by fear adrenaline and his stomach flopped in a way that nearly made him sick all over the blankets and things. “Please don’t leave me out of this, lads.”

“Never.” Niall’s urgent tone and his hand squeezing Harry’s arm allowed him to breathe again. “That’s the whole point of this. We haven’t done anything without you.”

“Well, not  _ really, _ ” Louis conceded. 

“Lou, don’t you fucking start.” Liam’s sharpness was undercut by the gentle way he was rubbing Harry’s ankle. 

“Look, if you think I haven’t been wanking to thoughts of all of you for at least a year you’re fucking deluded, mate.” 

It was Harry’s turn to make a strangled noise. 

_ Dear God. _

He’d never allowed himself to think of any of the boys that way — or at least not at a time like that — and his face heated up at the image of Louis doing so. When he looked around the circle of faces every one of them had a tinge of pink on it, but then it slowly dawned on him that they weren’t blushing for the same reason he was. 

“Wait, wait. What?” His heart sped up as he made himself say, “You lot have... You want...” He didn’t know what they wanted. And saying anything more scared the daylights out of him.

“Well, that’s the awkward part, innit?” Liam smiled sheepishly, his hopeful eyebrows making him look truly adorable. “We’ve sort of all been wanting the exact thing we’re absolutely not allowed to have.”

“It’s fecking ridiculous, I know. Took me a while to believe it could happen,” Niall said, sincere worry etched into his forehead. “But I dunno, if all of us were on board...” 

“I say we might as well be doing the thing they've basically been accusing us of.” Louis sounded surprisingly un-contrarian for once. It was jarring. “I  _ know _ I'm not the only one that has pretty much been going on the assumption that it'll happen — that it's just a matter of time, really.”

Harry couldn’t speak. This was bloody surreal. Were they really serious about this? They couldn’t be. He was hallucinating, or something. How many beers had he drunk?

And then Zayn cleared his throat. “My hesitation has always been —”

“Perrie, obviously. It wouldn’t work,” Harry said in a rush, trying to stave off crushing disappointment by pointing out the apparent flaw in the plan that he already desperately wanted to work.  

“Fuck no. Perrie seriously doesn’t care what or who I do when I’m not with her.” He reached out to touch Harry’s shoulder at the base of his neck. Harry tried not to shiver at the heat of Zayn’s hand, and the shock of attraction he never let himself feel. “I meant that we’ve never been sure if you'd actually want any of us. You touch us like you do, but you’ve never once made any other sort of move, so maybe it's just a sensual thing and not— ” 

“Lou’s certain you’re ace, honestly.” The bluntness of Liam’s statement shocked the heat back into Harry’s cheeks. “I don’t think that’s it. But the number of awkward boners you’ve unthinkingly induced is, well...” 

“Bloody embarrassing, mate. Do us all a favour and let us at least try this experiment.” Niall’s smile melted Harry into a puddle, as per usual. 

“Oi, we promised we wouldn’t pressure him,” Zayn said. When he turned to Harry his face smoothed out and his voice softened. “We know you haven’t dated a guy before, and maybe the idea of dating four of them at once is a little much, but we think we could make this work.”

Harry had to swallow and clear his throat; the circle of hopeful faces looking at him was daunting as fuck. “I... How long have you lot been wanting this and not going for it? You know I wouldn’t have minded if you’d started seeing each other.” His heart clenched at the thought, but he would have felt even worse denying them some happiness even if he hadn't been a part of it. 

“It's sort of an all or nothing thing, mate.” Louis glanced at Niall then looked away. “I've been made to see the light about that.”

_ Christ.  _

No wonder Louis was such a horny bastard. If he was wanting to get off with each of the rest of the lads all the time but couldn't... 

“You each really want to date the other four of us?” Harry looked from one to the other of them and all were nodding and smiling at him and each other. “Then why did you wait so fucking long to ask me how I feel?”

There was a moment of dead silence and the others’ faces looked either guilty or embarrassed. Except Liam. He smiled sadly and shrugged, saying, “What if you only wanted one of us, or none at all?” 

“Honestly, now: do you want all of us? No hard feelings if not.” Niall was almost certainly unconscious of the massive puppy dog eyes he was giving Harry, but that just made them all the more effective. “I've been certain you don't feel anything, you're just  _ that _ cuddly. Unlike Lou here, who's a fucking letch.”

Louis’ smile proved he took that as a compliment. 

Harry took a deep breath, though it didn’t help loosen the band of tightness around his chest. “The honest answer is: I've been terrified to want any of you for fear of losing what we already have, but yeah. I'm a cuddly bloke, but I've _ never  _ needed to touch anyone like I do you. All of you.”

They glanced at each other as if assessing how indiscriminate he was about who he touched and how often. They all seemed satisfied at their conclusions. He'd never been so thankful of having the hardest time choosing a crush in his life. 

“But, like... is the reason you lot touch me the way you do because you actually want me?” He rolled his eyes at Louis the moment the question was out of his mouth. “Not you, Lou. Of course that's the reason for you. I've sort of always known that but thought nothing would come of it. You're the polar opposite of asexual, if there is one — oversexual: wants to fuck anything that moves.”

“Oi! I've got standards. I just think all of you are bleeding gorgeous fuckers and I’ve wanted to get off with you since the X-Factor.”

“What, all of us? That far back?” Harry yelped. 

“Obviously...” Louis’ smile was fucking deadly. He was the absolute worst when he was like this, but it just made Harry grin like a fool. 

“I was all starry-eyed for all of you back then, too. But I would have never admitted it was attraction. Not under torture,” Harry confessed. 

“Same,” Zayn said, a moment before Liam said, “Ditto.”

“Then I'm the outlier. The slow one. I only thought you were all grand and felt lucky to be lumped in with you. I still feel that way. But I didn't cop on to the attraction thing until Lou stepped up his flirting efforts last spring.” 

“I was sick of waiting, but neither Liam nor Zayn would budge on asking either of you, and Zayn, particularly, was very all-or-nothing from the start. But can I be faulted for wanting this?” He grabbed hold of Niall's shoulder and pulled him close, kissing his temple, which drew a grimacing smile from Niall.

“Get off, ya knob. Christ almighty. Is everything with you going to be half-fight?”

“Best sort of sex there is, mate. But I'll save it for special occasions.” Lou winked at Niall, then waggled his eyebrows at Harry. “See what you're getting yourself into, mate?”

“Right. Never mind. I'll pass, thanks anyway.”

Noises of mock outrage and blame were tossed at Lou while Harry laughed and wove himself even further into the tangle of bodies. Every touch sparked interest in him, now he'd opened the floodgates, and his skin was abuzz with so many soft brushes of the other boys’ skin. It was delicious, and he wouldn't have allowed himself such a thing even two hours previous. 

When the ruckus died down a bit, Harry pressed his forehead to Zayn’s temple and murmured, “Why all-or-nothing? Seems the hardest option. You could have paired off ages ago and let me sort myself out later.”

Zayn pulled away but only to turn his head and focus hard on Harry's face, now inches from his own. “It wouldn't work any other way. I've thought a lot about it. Factions are death to a group like this, and they're inevitable with pairs or a threesome. Besides, someone was bound to feel left out if it started before everyone was ready, and I'd never want to hurt you. You're not really the centre of the group, but you're still the heart of things, somehow, and you deserve to be an equal if not inciting part of this.”

It was one of the longest, most heart-felt speeches Zayn had made all year, if not ever, and Harry was agog at its insight and kindness. With words driven from him by Zayn’s eloquence, Harry’s only recourse was touch. Since his hands were being held by others at the moment, he resorted to a simple, straightforward kiss on the lips. 

It must have taken Zayn by surprise because he made an adorable sound and took a second to reciprocate, but then it became a serious kiss that really meant something and had quite a bit of intention behind it. 

Harry had no idea which of the others noticed first, but they all sent up a cheer, which Zayn responded to by giving them two fingers and kissing Harry even harder before backing off. “All right?” His eyebrows were endearingly high, and Harry pulled his hand free of Liam’s to touch the edge of one with a shaky finger. 

“Never better. Like, ever, in my life.” Harry assured him, smiling so wide it hurt. 

Zayn’s grin was relieved, but a moment later it turned rakish. “All right,” he said, loud enough to get the other’s attention, “Who else wants to bring him into the fold?”

“Me,” Lou said before anyone else had opened their mouth. 

Niall spoke up right after, though. “I want a kiss from you, Z. Been waiting a long time.”

“Ah,” Lou waved Niall on as he zeroed in on Harry. “Have at him, he's glorious.”

Harry stopped Louis’ forward motion with a hand on his bare chest. “You've already kissed Zayn?”

“Yeah? Look. I'm only human, and things happen. What's a snog and a handjob between friends, after all?”

“Christ, Lou. You give friendship a bad name.” Liam swooped in while Louis was protesting and planted a lush but brief smack on Harry's lips. “Glad you're in, love. Apart from Zayn’s very ‘Five Musketeers’ insistence, it really wouldn't have worked without you.”

Harry's face heated up and he gave Liam a quick peck back in thanks before Louis pushed his way in and snogged Harry breathless. His mouth was uncompromising and ruthlessly efficient at pulling Harry in and taking him apart. When he came up for air he was a bit dazed, to say the least. 

“Christ on a bike, Lou. Save something for later,” Niall scolded. “My turn, anyway.” 

He elbowed a smugly grinning Louis out of the way to give Harry a shy smile and the sweetest lingering kiss he'd ever received. It was the perfect finisher to Louis’ conquest of his mouth. Harry was floating, blissful, serene.

Also aroused as fuck, but that was secondary at the moment. 

He had everything he'd never allowed himself to want and his happiness was dizzying. 

As he watched the other lads share kisses around the circle, the reality of what had just happened smacked him in the face and he came over all hot and cold at the thought of trying to actually make this work. 

Marnie was going to hate them all so much.

“How the fuck do we do this?”

“Orgies are quite simple, really —” 

“Shaddup Lou. That was an existential question if I’ve ever heard one.” Liam cupped the back of Harry’s neck and added, “We’ve got this. It’ll be grand.”

“But Marnie will —”

“Yeah, this is where Zayn’s all-or-nothing theory really takes off. It’s what convinced me, honestly.” Liam gestured to Zayn, who extricated himself from between Louis and Niall to respond.

“We’re a united front. They can’t kick any of us out for dating within the band unless they kick us all out. Which means we have leverage.” His eyebrow arched high and he bit his bottom lip cheekily. 

“You’re bloody brilliant,” Harry breathed, closing in on him for another heated kiss.

“Oi, we need him over here, mate,” Lou butted in.

“Also you,” Niall said, with a hand on Harry’s arm. “And you.” 

He pulled both Harry and Liam close, and they all snugged up together, trading kisses and touches and sighs and moans until Harry finally stopped worrying about how to make sure each of his boys knew how much he loved them.

Instead he just stopped thinking, let himself feel everything, and showed them.

 

~~

 

The next morning they all arrived on set together, grinning and yawning and triumphant, every one of them wearing Harry’s clothes. Not that it mattered, since the stylists were going to use them like paper dolls all day, changing them into and out of different matching ensembles, but Marnie noticed. 

Harry tamped down a spike of nerves when her sharp gaze zeroed in on them. They’d all agreed to act natural, like nothing in the world was different. Except that for Harry, everything was _ completely _ different. 

He’d woken up with an elbow in his back, someone else’s hair in his face, a leg thrown over his own, and a crick in his neck. And he’d never been happier. Was there anything more #squadgoals than being in love with everyone in the group and having it reciprocated on all fronts? He thought not. 

Though he wouldn’t bet that what Louis felt for any of them was anywhere close to true love. The seat of his emotions was much further down than his heart, but Harry didn’t begrudge him his need for fun. And Zayn was possibly way too in his own head, even more so than Harry, but it was a delight to draw him out and smooth his brow with gentle fingers or soft lips. And Liam would need reminders that he wasn’t scout leader to the group, that they were all adults and his only job was to love them and allow them to love him back. And Niall. It was going to be an utter joy to watch Niall figure out what he wanted and how to ask for it, instead of just going along with everyone else. He’d already made leaps and bounds in that department, and Harry looked forward to the new game of watching the push and pull between Niall and Louis as they worked out who could tell whom to do what. 

Harry was looking forward to all of it — every dynamic shifting and growing between them all, even every problem they would face, because they would be facing it together as a group. And he was pretty sure the five of them could meet any challenge the world could possibly throw at them, given how many they’d already overcome. 

Yes, he’d woken up feeling invincible. And he still did, even when Marnie walked up to them, her eyes flitting from one to the other, noting their stances, the ways they touched, how their eyes lingered on each other, the flush of their cheeks and lips... 

To Harry it was blatantly obvious what they’d been up to, but at the moment, he didn’t fucking care who knew. He raised an eyebrow to Marnie in greeting, his hands on the waists of Niall and Liam, the taste of Zayn’s first cup of coffee on his lips, Lou’s morning-hoarse laugh echoing in his ears. 

“And?” he said, only barely keeping the challenge out of his voice.

“And what?” she countered, game face on and giving away nothing. “I expect complete decorum today. Whatever it takes for you lot to stay focused and professional and within the bounds of decency while filming,  _ make it happen.  _ Whatever. It. Takes. That’s all. Let’s get started.” She pointed them toward the dressing room and turned away. 

“Oi, hang on. That’s it?” Harry broke away from the lads and followed her, because of course she didn’t stop or turn back or wait for him. When he caught up, he simply looked at her with raised eyebrows and lips pressed tightly together. 

She sighed and touched him briefly on the shoulder, but kept moving. “I’m here to care about your public image, Harry. That’s all I’m paid for. Whatever happens in private is not my concern. Nor should it be, no matter what sort of contract the label made you sign.” She glanced quickly at him, then away again, frowning as though assessing the readiness of the film crew with her critical eye. “All I’ve ever asked is that you lot don’t make my job nearly impossible with your antics  _ in public. _ Dressing rooms, tour vans, hotel rooms, private residences — when the doors are closed and the blinds drawn...” 

She finally stopped walking and turned to look at him. “Whatever keeps you sane and happy in this business is a godsend, believe me. But there’s only so much ‘it’s simply boys horsing around’ that I can get away with, especially as you all get older. So I meant it when I said ‘whatever it takes.’ I’ve always meant it, and I’ll stand by it for the duration. Just don’t  _ ever  _ let me see whatever it is, all right?”

Harry blinked, closed his mouth, swallowed, and nodded. 

When he told the lads later in a quiet moment in the dressing room, they all nodded as well. 

“Simple. Done,” Zayn said, then turned back to the mirror to check his collar. Harry reached out to smooth it down in the back and caught himself. Such a simple but intimate action, and yet he was so unaware of the moment between wanting and doing.

“Not easy, though, babe.” He tried to smile at Zayn in the mirror, but he could see how unsuccesful he was. 

Zayn let his eyes drop to the vanity and though his eyelashes were luscious like that, Harry missed the heat of his gaze. “Easier than not getting to touch you how I want to in private and needing whatever I can get where everyone can see.” 

“Spot fucking on.” 

Harry started and glanced over at Lou, where Liam and Niall were also nodding, arms around each other’s shoulders. 

“It’s so much better this way, mate.” Niall said softly.

“Until it becomes torture not to touch you on stage,” Harry muttered, though he conceded the point.

“Maybe, but we’ve gotten away with enough so far. Marnie didn’t prohibit  _ all _ touch, just the stuff that makes it look like we’re fucking.” Liam shrugged.

“So it’s better to actually be fucking than to look like it. What bloody nonsense.” 

“Welcome to showbiz, lovie,” Lou said with a cheeky, mocking smile. 

Harry growled in response and stalked toward the dressing room door.

“Hang on, you can’t go out like that,” Niall said. 

“Like what?” Harry looked down at himself to make sure his outfit was put together. 

“Without a kiss. C’mere, poppet.” 

And with that, everything was a thousand times better. And any lengths they had to go to for this to work seemed utterly worth it. 

They each shared a brief kiss and then the five of them looked at each other for a long moment before heading out into the world and tackling the day. Together. 

It wasn't that big of a thing, but to Harry, it meant the fucking world. 


End file.
